Retribution (24 page)

This shit is crazy!
I take several deep breaths to steady my nerves. Then stand, removing my damp nightgown. I take a quick shower, towel off, oil my body, then walk over to my dresser, rummaging through a drawer filled with an array of negligees, teddies, flyaways, before finally settling on a pair of pink lace boy shorts and a matching tee.

After checking the security panel and monitor, I pick up the house phone and call out to the security booth to speak with the guard on duty. He assures me everything is fine, that I have no cause for alarm. I breathe out a sigh of relief, hanging up.

I climb back in bed and reach my cell off the nightstand. I have eight missed calls, four text messages. I press the prompts to retrieve my voice messages. There are seven of them.

First message: Today, four-thirteen
P.M.
It's Mona sounding frazzled and desperate and at her wits' end. “Pasha, it's me, Mona. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message. I don't know how much longer I can keep this in. Leticia has filed a missing person's report. Girl, call me.”

It sounds as if she's been crying. I shake my head.
I know she's going through it right now. But I'm really going to need her to pull it together, or she's going to end up getting us all jammed up in some shit.
I know JT's her cousin. And I'm sure his wife, Leticia, and his mother are stressed out with worry. But fuck that dirty nigga. She has to remember what the fuck that nigga did to her.
Fucking molester!
She can't be falling apart like this over his ass. Not after what he put her through. I glance at the television, wondering how many other girls he did that shit to, or tried to rape.

Maybe Booty's right, Mona's ass isn't built for this shit.
I wonder if the police will find his body. And if they do, will they be able to trace it back to Booty?

Second message: Today, five-forty
P.M.
As soon as I hear his voice, I cringe. This nigga is fucking crazy! “Pasha, what the fuck, yo. That was some real bullshit you pulled, yo. You bein' a real bitch, yo. Keep lettin' that fuckin' bitch, Cassandra, gas ya ass up, aiight? Why is you puttin' me through a buncha fuckin' changes, yo? I'm tryna give you ya space, yo. But you really testin' me. Drop that fuckin' restrainin' order, yo. I wanna see my fuckin' son, bitch! And I want my muthafuckin' paper!”

I frown, saving the message.
Fuck you, nigga! I'm so over you and your bullshit!
I glance at the television screen getting caught up in the taped episode of Olivia's romp in the sheets with Fitz.
You go, girl. Get your sloppy seconds!
She's the only jump-off I know who gets main bitch treatment. And the wife gets treated like she's the real trick in the room.

Third message: Today, six-eighteen
P.M.
“Yo, Pash. It's me, Stax… hit me up.” Fuck you, too, Stax! I delete the message.

Fourth message: Today, seven-thirty
P.M.
“Miss Pasha, girl. I'm tryna keep it classy, and you know I don't do messy. But I'ma split-second from bangin' Mona in her goddamn head. Help that coon-bitch get her goddamn mind right. That bitch is all over the place.”

I roll my eyes. “I can't with these bitches,” I say, deleting the message.

Fifth message: Today, nine-eleven
P.M.
“Yo, Pasha. It's me. Lamar. I got you on the brain, ma. Just wanna make sure you got to the crib safe and you aiight. I'm still kinda hot 'bout that shit you told me. Hit me up so I know you got in okay. I'ma be up pretty late.”

Sixth message: Today, ten-thirty
P.M.
“Pasha, it's me again. Lamar. Yo, don't have me drive down to ya crib to make sure shit's aiight wit' you. Call me. If I don't hear back within the next hour, I'ma be at ya gate.”

I smile. I don't bother listening to the last message. I scroll through my contacts, then call his cell. He picks up on the first ring. “Damn, I'm relieved to hear your voice, Pasha. You had a muhfucka over here stressin', real shit.”

I smile. “I appreciate that. I'm okay.”

“Shit, I was 'bout ready to send out the troops to make sure you were safe…”

A light bulb goes off in my head as I'm sitting up in bed listening to him.
Shit's about to get real messy in a minute. This nigga's someone I need on my team.

I replay the conversation we had earlier in this evening in my head. He had expressed concern for me, wanting to know if everything was okay with me. After several moments of him prodding, I finally decided to tell him about my phone call with Jasper earlier in the day.

His jaws tightened. “Say what? Fuck that! Pasha, I might be a part of ya security team here, but this lil gig ain't what I do. There's a whole other side of me you don't know, ma. I gotta crew that'll shut shit down. And, real shit, I'll light that nigga up.” His nose flared. I could see the veins in his neck bulging. “That muhfucka's
gonna have to come through
me
if he even tries to get at you. That's my word. I'm still hot about that pussy muhfucka puttin' his hands on you the other day in ya office. Pussy-ass niggas do that dumb shit. And now he talkin' about tryna put a bullet in you. Nah, not happenin'; not on my watch it's not. You need to let me have that nigga's shit pushed in for you.”

I'd never seen Lamar like that. He's always so laid back and easygoing. But I'm not going to lie and say that seeing his aggressive, protective side hadn't flattered me, or turned me on. Because it damn sure did.

“As tempting as that is, I have to let it ride, for
now
. I don't want you getting yourself in any kind of trouble on my account.”

“Nah, there's def no trouble to get in. I move swift. The circle of niggas I roll with know how'ta move. We skilled at what we do. That nigga'll never see it coming.”

“Trust me. Jasper's going to get his.” I wasn't about to elaborate. But I let him know that his protectiveness of me didn't go unnoticed and was greatly appreciated. He helped me gather my things, then followed me out of my office and waited for me to set the alarm, then lock up.

“Thanks, again,” I said, walking alongside of him as he walked me to my car. “I'm really glad I have you working here.”

“No doubt. I'ma ride or die for
you
, Pasha. I know you're my employer ‘n' all, but you cool-ass peeps…” He held open my door for me, waited for me to slide in, then added, “And you sexy as fuck, no disrespect. But I've been wantin' to say that for a while now.” He licked his lips as his hungry eyes roamed over my body.

I blushed, shifting my eyes from his hot gaze, instantly feeling a throbbing in my clit. I've never, ever, been one to mix business with pleasure. I've always maintained a “no fraternizing, no fucking the staff” policy at the salon.

Until now…

I blink back the memory of Lamar's brown gaze locked on mine, deciding to test him. Dare him. To see how far he'll really go—
for me.

The reality is this: After being slapped by Jasper, then being threatened by the motherfucker earlier today, I'm more anxious than ever before to shut his ass down. And the truth is, I'm desperate to come out of whatever happens unscathed. So to ensure that, I am willing to do
whatever
I have to do, including fucking
and
sucking—like Cassandra put it—for a cause. And that's exactly what I intend for this to be—a good fuck for a greater cause.

I press my thighs together. “I know it's late. But, what are you doing right now?”

“Kicked back. Why, what's good?”

“Tell me, Lamar,” I coo into the phone. “Did you
really
mean what you said when you told me
anything
I need from you, you got me?”

“No doubt, ma. I'm a real-ass nigga. I stand by my word. I meant that on my life.
Any
thing, yo. I got you. It's whatever, Pasha. And don't worry, I'm mad discreet wit' my shit. So whatever jumps, jumps on the low. Why, you got somethin' you need me to handle?”

I sly smile eases across my lips. “Yeah. Come eat my pussy.”

A possessed pussy can fuck a nigga's demons loose…

“Y
es, oooh, yesss. That's it,” I murmur as Lamar licks the tip of my clit, his wet tongue exploring every angle of its distended flesh before trailing along the slit of my pussy. His tongue darts in, deep. “Oooh, yes, eat my pussy…”

I shiver as his strong hands ease over my hips. He inches up on his elbows and slides his palms under me, grabbing and squeezing my ass cheeks. His warm mouth blankets my pussy, his tongue swirling around my clit every so often, causing soft moans to float around the room.

Lying here naked with my hands tangled in Lamar's locks while his face is pressed in between my thighs—knees bent up toward my chest—and his mouth and tongue feast on my pussy is not what I had planned for tonight.

No. Lamar isn't supposed to be here, in my bed, between my legs. But he is. Mmmph…his tongue, his mouth, his fingers aren't supposed to be causing heat to flare through my pussy.

But they are.

The wet smacking sounds his mouth makes as it slurps and gulps in my juices becomes a seductive melody to my ears. “Damn, baby,” he whispers against my pussy, “you taste good as fuck…mmmm…”

None of this should be happening. But it is.

Because
I
want it to. Because Lamar wants it to.

He's offered himself to me, in any way needed. He's, unexpectedly, become a window, an opened door, of opportunity. And I'm taking it.

So here he is.

Here I am. Thrusting my hips up, grinding my pussy into his mouth, fucking into his face, clutching his tongue as he pushes it deep inside of me.

“Mmmmhmm, there you go…get all up in that pussy.”

I play with my breasts, lifting my head and pushing them together, sucking and licking, my tongue twirling over and around my large brown areolas. My nipples are swollen and stiff and extremely sensitive as he circles his tongue around my wet pussy, shamelessly begging to feel his dick inside.

I've not seen his dick, yet. Have not even felt it. He's still in his clothes. Eating my pussy is what I requested, but now I want more. I want him naked. Stretched out. His legs spread, his cock and balls on display. I want to throat his dick, wet it with a bunch of spit, then fuck it deep down into my neck, stroking my tonsils.

God, I hope this nigga doesn't have a little-ass dick!

The size of his dick shouldn't matter. I'm not trying to fall in love with his ass. I'm trying to get whatever it is he has to offer me. I know this. Still, sucking a small dick is not only going to be disappointing, it'll be a fucking bore!

He grunts, his mouth full with pussy.

I moan, my body full of lust and fire.

“Oooh, yes, nibble all up on that pussy…mmm…”

I can't front, can't even pretend, that he's not on top of his tongue game. His pussy-eating skills are heavenly. His lips and tongue
feverishly devour my pussy lips in long, deep, wet strokes. “Ooooh, yes, motherfucker, yessss…”

He looks up at me. His lips are shiny, glazed, with my juices. Holding my gaze, he removes one hand from underneath me, licking his index and middle fingers. He slips them between my thick pussy lips, then thrusts them into my wetness, drawing a gasp from deep inside me. His fingers jam in deep, stirring and twisting, brushing up against my G-spot. “Yessss, get it, Daaadddy, yesss…”

Lamar finger-fucks my guts causing my whole body to quiver. I lift my legs and hook my arms in back of my knees, pulling them up over my shoulders, opening my pussy wider for him as he pumps his fingers inside of me in a steady rhythm.

Mmmm. As delicious as this feels, I'm ready for some dick. I want to feel him inside of me, fucking inside of me—my pussy, my mouth—deep and fast. I want to taste him. Suck him. Swallow all of him. But his only focus is devouring my pussy, its sweet, tangy juices coating his lips and his tongue and fingers.

He finally comes up for air, licking his cum-coated fingers, then lips. “Daaayumn, ma, your pussy's so sweet. I wanna keep fuckin' you wit' my tongue ‘n' these fingers until you nut so hard ‘n' so much, baby, that your pussy juice soaks my hand, my lips, my tongue. Then I'ma push this hard-ass dick all the way up in you. Fuck you real good, Pasha. I'ma scrape ya insides up with this dick. That's what you want, ma? Me to beat this gushy shit up for you?”

He says all this as he's pressing on my clit with two fingertips, moving them in a circular motion. I grind my hips in anticipation. “Oooh, yessss. I want you to fuck my pussy. Gut my pussy. Uhhhh…I'm getting ready to cum…put your tongue back in me…”

His head lowers back into the space between my thighs, his tongue back into my throbbing wet pussy.

I gasp, growling low in my throat, tightening my fingers in his thick locks, while pushing him into my pussy. My thighs clamp around his ears. Goose bumps dot my skin as his head moves rapidly up and down, then side to side, his tongue in sync as his fingers hold my swollen cream-slick lips apart.

My hips buck.

“Yessss…get it, get it…oh, yes…eat my pussy…”

I moan. Allow myself to luxuriate in a few extra minutes of his lavish tongue-swab over my clit and pussy before loosening my thighs from around his head and reaching for him. “Get up,” I say breathlessly. “I wanna suck your dick.”

He hops up and begins stripping out of his clothes. His shirt hits the floor first, followed by his wife beater. I take in his dark muscular torso. His bulging biceps, his chiseled triceps and broad shoulders are the result of long hours spent in the gym. I lean up on my forearms, eye his dark-pebbled nipples. I have the urge to lick them. My gaze travels along the fine black trail of hair that leads from under his belly button down into the waist of his jeans.